


i used to be fucked up now i'm just love struck

by notthebigspoon



Series: Jet Black Sky Is Painted White Again [2]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:32:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon Belt: sexually conflicted and eager to please.</p><p>Title taken and altered from Black Dahlia by Hollywood Undead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i used to be fucked up now i'm just love struck

“I'm sorry, Pencey, but I don't see what the problem is.”

“The problem is he's having a big gay realization and he's having it with ME.”

Castro just hums and Hunter decides that best friend or not, pet rook or not, he is going to murder Jason Castro the next time the Giants play the Astros. The field at Minute Maid Park will be stained red with blood. The city will weep. Hunter will smile like a deranged elf as he's escorted from the park in handcuffs.

“Earth to Pence. Open your ears, jackass!”

“Sorry. I was fantasizing about murdering you next time we're in Houston. What did you say?”

“I asked if you like the guy.”

Hunter considers it, chewing on his lip. He doesn't _dislike_ Belt. He knows a lot more today than he did yesterday about the kid and there's a sort of connection there between them. “He's... a nice kid. I like him. I want to make sure that he's okay. I don't want him to go through what I went through as long as I did.”

“Just like you didn't let me go through it.”

“That's different. You never kissed me.”

“Point.” Castro answers, clucking his tongue. “I think you should give him a chance.”

“What is there to give a chance to? Y'know, I got to the park today and he pretended that he had no idea who I was. Just nodded at me the one time.”

“Wouldn't count on it. Look, I gotta go. We won tonight and I'm counting on getting laid.”

“Who?”

“Keuchel and Lyles are both completely trashed. I'm aiming for both.”

Hunter snorts. “Good luck slut puppy.”

“G'night old man.”

He puts his phone down and shakes his head, grinning at the waitress when she brings his chicken fried steak plate. Meat loaf, chicken fried steak. He alternates with those and a wild card night where he'll order anything he hasn't tried before. Patty, the waitress, pinches his cheek and tells him to eat up, he's a growing boy and all.

He obeys, cutting the chicken fried steak into uneven chunks. The diner's TV is tuned in to Coach reruns and he slouches forward in his seat. He eats with one hand and fiddles with his phone with the other, eyes periodically flicking up to see what's going on on the TV. He can't relax somehow, something feels off.

But then the bell is tinkling, he looks up as he's wont to do and... Belt. Hunter feels himself relaxing and he gestures at the seat across from him again. He pushes his plate away as Belt sits down and gives his order to Patty, a burger just like he'd ordered yesterday and again with the strawberry milkshake. He waits until she walks away before giving Hunter an unsure look.

“I didn't know you'd be here. I mean, I kind of hoped that you would but I didn't know you would.”

“I eat here every night. During a home stand, anyways. Had a place in Philly I always went to before they traded me.” Hunter says, smiling and taking a drink of his lemonade. “Creature of habit, so it's been said. Same meals in the same places, always shopping at the same stores.

“Why?”

“Why not? When I've got a good thing going, I don't mess with it.”

Just like last night, they both eat in silence once Belt's food come. Hunter doesn't bother trying to get him to talk, not yet. Whatever it is can wait. He's got a feeling that he's going to be spending a lot of tonight with Belt. He's strangely comfortable with the idea.

Hunter pays for dinner again, kicking Belt in the shins when he squawks a protest. He says good night to Patty and nudges Belt to get him walking, following him out of the diner. He glances over his shoulder in time to catch Patty watching them and fanning herself with her hand. He rolls his eyes and she just winks, blowing him a kiss before starting to clear their booth.

Belt is already halfway down the block, same route they took the night before. Hunter jogs to catch up with him and leans in, bumping their shoulders together. Belt glances over at him, giving him a tiny smile. “M'sorry, man. I'm not trying to.. y'know, stalk you or anything.”

“I told you you could talk to me any time.” Hunter points out. “I don't say things that I don't mean.”

“I cried on you.”

Hunter snorts. “That's far from the worse thing that's ever happened to me. Jason Castro, catches for the Astros? When we played together, he was an _ass_. I mean, making all these stupid remarks and using these awful names. Confronted him about it one night because for all of his behavior, he just really didn't seem that bad of a guy. Turned out he was overcompensating."

“What ended up happening?”

“Well, first he punched me. Gave me a bloody nose, has a hell of a right hook. Then he screamed at me, called me everything under the sun. And then he finally broke down and got all catatonic.”

It's actually a painful memory. Things are going much easier with Belt than they ever did with Jason. It took months before he was finally okay with himself and even now Castro harbors a lot of self doubt. Not with the show, never with the show, but with himself. Hunter can only hazard a guess but sometimes he thinks that the promiscuity is something Jason embraces because he thinks that he can't get someone to love him. They're gonna have to work on that later.

For now he enjoys walking with Belt, coaxing him into talking about himself more, about the team and where he fit into it, anything to make him relax. He'd volunteer information in turn, telling about the Astros and the Phillies and how badly he'd never been able to stand Victorino.

“Gotta admit you've got a bright side to being traded there.” Belt points out. Hunter just blinks at him owlishly, waiting for him to go on. “Now it's almost a job requirement to hate him.”

Hunter snorts and punches him in the shoulder. He stops walking somewhat out of instinct, blushing when Belt stops and just looks at him confused. He blushes, rubbing his neck and trying to figure out why he's so embarrassed all of a sudden. “This is my place. Here.”

“Huh? Oh. Oh, sorry. You're right, it's late. I should get out of here, I'll call a cab.”

“Or you could come up.”

Belt looks a little scared, hesitates long enough that Hunter starts to regret asking before nodding by just a fraction. There's no words for just how relieved Hunter is and he smiles, brushing his knuckles over Belt's arm before unlocking the door of his building. They climb the stairs in silence, Belt glancing around and taking in the surroundings, unremarkable as they are.

There's only a moment between when he's unlocked his apartment and ushered Belt in, and when he nudges the door shut before being pinned back against it as Belt crushes their lips together. Hunter grunts in surprise before opening his mouth to the kiss, tongue flicking against Belt's as their bodies press together. He touches... he never can't when he's kissing someone. Smooths his hands up Belt's sides before running over his back.

When he finally lets himself touch skin, slipping a hand under Belt's shirt, the kid groans and presses their hips together. Hunter nudges him back and pushes off the door, panting against his lips, “Fuck... bedroom. Bed, now. Bed is good.”

There's a flicker of uncertainty in Brandon's eyes that's enough to make Hunter pause, give him one slow kiss that seems to alleviate his fears. He grips Belt's hand, squeezing and tugs him across the living room of the apartment, into the bedroom just off the side. He pulls him into two soft kisses before tugging his own shirt off.

It's easier then. He's cautious, touching Hunter like he's not sure it's okay. When the last article of clothing has finally been flung across the room, the way he looks at Hunter is dark, hungry, desperate. He drops to his knees, wraps his mouth around Hunter's cock like he's never wanted anything more. He's a natural and enthusiastic to be, enough to make Hunter's knees shake as he sifts a hand through Belt's hair, hand sliding around the back of his neck and guiding his movements.

He feels close and no, he doesn't want it to be this way. He shakes his head, pulling Belt's up for a kiss and groaning at the taste of himself in Belt's mouth. He pushes him back onto the bed and kneels between his knees, leaning down for another kiss. “Y'trust me?”

“Yeah... yeah, Hunter, want this.”

Hunter grins, biting his bottom lip before leaning over and opening the top drawer of his dresser. He drops the lube and condom next to Brandon's hip and just the sight of it makes the kid moan. Brandon whimpers when Hunter sucks him and huh. Hunter wouldn't have pegged him for a talker. First just whimpers and tiny hitches of breaths and then pleas for more as Hunter works him open with his fingers.

He gives him one more chance to back out, reassures him that it's okay if he's not ready, it's okay. He doesn't want to take more than Belt's ready for, doesn't want him diving into this because he suddenly feels like he has to. But then Brandon's gripping his arms and yanking him down for a kiss tainted by the coppery taste of blood. He bites down, hard, and snarls, “Just fuck me already.”

Well. Hunter hates to disappoint. One leg is hooked over Hunter's shoulder and he presses in, slow and steady. It draws a keening whine and as he bottoms out, Belt grips his hip with one hand, pulling him in hard enough to make both of them groan.

Somehow, in spite of the initial eagerness, it's slow and easy. Lazy rocks of his hips and deep kisses as Brandon lets his leg slip down, gripping Hunter's shoulders and and breaking the kiss to press his face into Hunter's neck. He sucks and bites a mark into the base of Hunter's neck, one that even an undershirt isn't going to hide on the field.

Brandon comes first, panting out Hunter's name and rocking his hips up even as Hunter's thrust become erratic and he comes, grinding his hips against Brandon's ass, drawing out one last groan before they collapse together, a tangle of limps and sweaty skins and a panting kiss. He pulls out, knots the condom and tosses it at the waste bin. He cleans them up with his discarded boxers and tosses them aside. He's exhausted and there's a pleasant ache in his body as he falls forward onto the mattress, face mushing into his pillow. Before he knows it, he's asleep with his hand gripping Brandon's hip.

He's not sure what wakes him, exactly. The bed is empty and he stares sleepily at the clock. Probably not even twenty minutes since he fells asleep. He pushes himself up on his elbow, glances around and sees Brandon starting to dress. The kid freezes when he notices Hunter's awake.

“Leavin'?”

“I... I wasn't sure...”

Hunter smiles and shakes his head, whispers, “Come back to bed. Please.”

Belt hesitates then nods. He drops the boxers that he'd been holding and crawls into bed. His body's tense, like he doesn't know what to do with himself. Hunter wraps an arm around his waist and tugs him close until Brandon rests against him. The kid hesitates and rests his head on Hunter's shoulder. The tension slowly leaves his body and in a few minutes he's asleep and breathing slow and steady.

Hunter smiles and nuzzles the top of his head, dropping a soft kiss. He falls asleep with his face in in Brandon's hair.


End file.
